


Clocks

by nooodisaster



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Blow Jobs, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, Smut, TW: Sex, season 3b, slight AU, tw: gore, tw: implied rape, tw: language, tw: sexual assault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-23
Updated: 2014-01-23
Packaged: 2018-01-09 17:49:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1149019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nooodisaster/pseuds/nooodisaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Prompt: A smutty, fluffy, then disturbing, then hurt-comforty fic that takes place during season 3B when Stiles has the nightmares. AU as Stiles and Derek have been a thing for around 2 months. Nightmare section includes disturbing images.]</p><p>"Screw you," Derek said and leaned towards Stiles, grabbing him into his arms. The muscles on his arms pressed against Stiles’ chest and before Stiles even knew what was happening, Derek was sucking on his neck.</p><p>“Oh…. Oh, okay… We’re doing this n-now.” Stiles’ breath was already rapid and erratic. He tried to be sarcastic, cynical, but all he could think of was the wet lips currently giving him a hickey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clocks

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr has officially made me ship sterek, at least in the fandom. here’s my first fic i wrote for them. and yes i have a huge headcanon that stiles is addicted to katy perry.
> 
> tumblr: nooodisaster

It was 3:26pm. Stiles was lying in bed on his chest, blasting “Dark Horse” through his $6 earbuds, and twerking to the beat.  
  
“Cuz’ once you’re mine, once you’re mine…. Hey hey hey- HEY!”  
  
The peaceful scene was interrupted with a loud smack to his rear.  
  
Stiles turned his head and looked up. Sitting on the bed, grinning devilishly, was the only person who’d be crazy enough to interrupt him mid-Katy.  
  
“Derek, I swear to God, if you slap my ass one more time while I’m listening to Katy, I’ll shove mountain ash up yours.”

Derek just chuckled. “You’re going to have to actually carry through with one of these threats eventually. They’re becoming emptier and emptier.”  
  
Stiles creased his eyebrows in thought. A good threat. Something horrible. Something that didn’t require black powder or werewolf magic.  
  
“Okay… No blowjobs for a week.”  
  
The sound Derek made was something trapped between a roar and a whimper.  
  
“Now’s when you beg for mercy,” Stiles said, keeping himself from smirking.  
  
Stiles always loved this part. The way Derek’s face went from menacing or cold to a pout you’d see on a five year old. How he got to see a side of Derek other rarely got to see. A childish Derek.  
  
“You know,” Stiles said, after waiting for Derek to speak. “I might not have werewolf-level hearing, but I’m pretty sure you didn’t say anything.”  
  
“… Sorry.”  
  
Stiles smiled before he could stop himself, but quickly tried to look serious again. “For?”  
  
“Stiles… I swear…”  
  
“ _For?_ ”  
  
Derek had to turn away to say the next sentence.  
  
“For interrupting your ‘Katy-jam session,’” he muttered under his breath.  
  
“Wow. I’m impressed. That only took you… two full minutes to apologize?”  
  
Derek turned back to look at Stiles. By now, Stiles had given up trying to hide how deliriously happy that little apology had made him, and was grinning like a hyena. When they first had started… whatever this was, he didn’t even know Derek was capable of apologizing. Of being anything other than intimidating (in the hottest way possible, of course).  
  
“Screw you,” Derek said and leaned towards Stiles, grabbing him into his arms. The muscles on his arms pressed against Stiles’ chest and before Stiles even knew what was happening, Derek was sucking on his neck.  
  
“Oh…. Oh, okay… We’re doing this n-now.” Stiles’ breath was already rapid and erratic. He tried to be sarcastic, cynical, but all he could think of was the wet lips currently sucking on his neck.  
  
Then the wet lips on his lips. Then the teeth pulling at his shirt, the tongue licking his nipples, the kisses going lower and lower down his chest. Before he could form a coherent thought, he realized Derek was shirtless, and ripping off Stiles’ boxer briefs.  
  
“How did- when-… what,” was all he could say. Derek smiled and, threw the boy’s underwear. Stiles knew what was coming next, knew what the grin meant, and he felt his hard cock throb just at the thought.  
  
Derek turned back to Stiles, and pinned him down to the bed with both hands. Unable to move, Stiles had no choice but to look right into Derek’s eyes, into those dark orbs. He couldn’t see anything reflected in them, just brown that seemed to pierce through the air. Derek was looking at Stiles not like someone he loved, not even like someone he cared about. Derek was looking at Stiles like a piece of meat he was about to devour.  
  
And it drove the boy  _nuts_.  
  
“Fuck… Derek, come on… Please, just, man. Fuck, shit,  _fuck_.” Stiles didn’t even know what he was saying. Every word meant the same things to him now: desire.  
  
It was silent for a moment, and then Derek gave a light smile, more like a suggestion of one. He moved his head closer to Stiles until it was inches from his ear. His breath was hot against Stiles’ skin. And then he whispered, so silently it could have been something Stiles imagined.  
  
“Now’s when you beg for mercy.”  
  
It was 4:02pm. And Stiles was about to break yet another of his threats to Derek.  
  
——————-  
  
It was 6:14pm. Stiles felt Derek’s arms against his bare chest, gentler than before, but still so protective. They were spooning on his bed, Derek in his underwear, and Stiles completely naked. Stiles dimly remembered Derek tossing his boxer briefs at him after they were done, but Stiles had been unable to move at that point. His ability to use his brain hadn’t come back for a few more minutes.  
  
“… I like you,” Derek whispered to Stiles sleepily.  
  
The words caught Stiles by surprise. They were soft. Almost like a kiss to the cheek. And even though Stiles had unlocked embarrassment and desire out of Derek’s “maximum security safe of his human emotions,” gentleness was something he had only caught glimpses of. There were still so many layers to Derek Stiles knew he hadn’t even begun to see.  
  
“I thought you hated me.”  
  
“I do. You’re a little bitch.”  
  
“Tell us how you really feel.”  
  
“But you’re my little bitch.”  
  
There it was. That feeling, that-  
  
“You know, I’m actually a human, not a dog,” Stiles said, and he couldn’t keep the tone of real, actual anger out of it.  
  
“What?” Derek said, clearly annoyed.  
  
He had no idea how to explain it. This whole relationship, whatever it was, drive Stiles crazy. Crazy with lust, yes, but more than that. The way Derek could drive Stiles so wild, was different than anything he had thought about himself before. Before Derek, he didn’t even know if he was bisexual. And now there was bi, pan, gay, hetero-romantic, boy, submissive, switch, bottom. Did he even want girls anymore? Did he like, beyond the sexual feeling, how Derek could have so much power over him? He’d spent more than a few nights Wiki-ing every possible orientation and type imaginable in search of what he was. Before it was just: horny? Jack off. Now it was, was…  
  
“Complicated,” was all Stiles could say to Derek.  
  
Derek did something like a huff at Stiles.  
  
“Trust me. I’ve already dated two sociopaths. If you ever want to talk about it…..” He sighed. “I guess you can talk to me.”  
  
Stiles smiled.  _You think too much Stiles_ , he reminded himself.  
  
“I like you too.”  
  
Derek wrapped his leg around Stiles, pulled him close to him. And Stiles let his eyes close, and just feel the man’s body against his, and the soft breath against his shoulder, and the heartbeat keeping time against his back.  
  
————

  
It was 10:23am. Stiles had skipped school because Derek came over, they were both naked, and Stiles was dreaming. He didn’t know how he knew that, but he knew he was. The scene itself wasn’t that uncommon at all.  
  
Stiles was lying on his bed, trying to control his desire, with Derek slowly licking cock. He could feel it build and build, and he wanted release so badly, but he kept it in. He looked down and saw Derek grab the shaft and mouth open, take it in. Stiles gasped and felt himself beg Derek, to stop or keep going, he didn’t know. He closed his eyes and felt himself about to burst.  
  
But then, the pleasure started to dull. Stiles waited a moment, then opened his eyes. He looked down at Derek.  
  
Dead. The man’s body was limp and covered with blood.  
  
Stiles screamed in terror and scrambled away. He felt something rough against his skin. Looking down, he saw it was. The Nemeton.  
  
“Wake up Stiles,” he told himself, sweat covering his face.  
  
“Wake up.” This was just a dream.  
  
“Stiles, wake up!” He knew it was just a dream.  
  
“WAKE UP!”  
  
  
His eyes opened. He felt Derek’s back against his, and sighed relief. It was getting light out, the window letting in the morning.  
  
 _It’s okay_ , he thought, and tried to relax.  
  
But something wasn’t right. Derek’s chest against his back was hairier than usual, Derek’s chin less so. The arms didn’t feel as muscular.  
  
Stiles slowly turned around to face him. His heart was slamming against his chest. Beating, beating, beating. The sunlight was just a little too white for Beacon Hills.  
  
“Hello Stiles.”  
  
It was Gerard. Black blood was seeping out from his mouth to Stiles’ nude back. Stiles tried to scream, but his mouth was covered by the man’s hand before he could. He struggled against his touch. The violation he felt.  
  
“Now it’s my turn to make you my little bitch.”  
  
  
Stiles bolted upright, his heart pounding. It was still dark outside. “Just a dream,” he said. “It was just a dream. A dream. A dream.”  
  
It was still dark outside. All the commotion seemed to have woken Derek up, because he yawned and looked up at Stiles.  
  
“You okay?”  
  
“A dream,” Stiles said. “I’m fine, it’s over now.”  
  
“Good,” Derek said, sitting up to meet Stiles. His eyes were scanning Stiles’ naked body with desire. “Because I want to make you feel better.”  
  
Stiles sighed. “Usually I’d be totally up for two in one day, even three, as you know. But just… I’m not in the mood, okay?”  
  
Derek frowned. “Come on,” he said, and moved to rub his face against Stiles’ neck, his tongue on Stiles’ skin. Somewhere he knew it felt good, but the dream he’d woken from destroyed any possibility of that surfacing.  
  
“You know you will,” Derek said. Stiles couldn’t tell if it was seductive or invasive. Or both.  
  
“No.  _Please._ " Stiles felt Derek push him down onto the bed. The man took one hand to keep Stiles down while the other pulled down his underwear.  
  
“You don’t get to say no to me.” The words were loud, impossibly loud. They smashed against Stiles’ ear, echoing.  More menace in them each time.  
  
“Derek, NO!”  
  
A sting exploded across Stiles face and he cried out in pain. Derek pulled the fist away from Stiles face and laughed. His teeth were fangs.  
  
“Say that again.”  
  
Tears were in Stiles’ eyes. He tried to move but couldn’t. He was frozen in place. Derek aimed for the other side of his face and-  
  
“Ah!!” Stiles cried out, tearing blinding his vision.  
  
He felt his body being pulled from the bed. Slamming to the cold floor. Breath knocked out of him.  
  
“Come on Stiles,” he could hear Derek in his head. “I told you to say it again!”  
  
He felt blood dripping from his nose as a blow hit him there. Nothing existed in his world except pain and betrayal. The world was black. All Stiles saw was Derek, mouth open, eyes a deadly blue, teeth sharp and ready to kill.  
  
They came for Stiles neck.  
  
  
“AHHHHHHH!!!!”  
  
Stiles arched his back from the pain and tried to get away. He was yelling as loudly as he could. He saw a figure come towards him, come to hurt him, abuse him.  
  
“Stiles-“  
  
It was Derek. Stiles used all his strength and slammed into him, knocking him off the bed. He crawled away from him. He couldn’t see anything. He hit something, a wall, a ceiling, he didn’t know. Anything could happen next. He had to wake up before they could hurt him. He felt the wall as tears fell down his face. He needed to wake up. Without hesitation, he threw his fist into the wall. He cried out and reeled from the pain. It wasn’t enough. He needed more. He needed to wake up. He hit the wall again, felt blood smear it. If he just broke a bone maybe that would be enough to wake up.  
  
Something grabbed him. He screamed and thrashed against Gerard. Crying. Begging him not to. He heard laughter, screaming, blackness, white, silence-  
  
“STILES!!!”  
  
It was Derek. The world crashed back to him. He felt tears rock his body that he couldn’t stop, felt darkness around him. But mostly of all, he felt strong arms holding him. Protecting him.  
  
Stiles collapsed against him. His whole body was covered in sweat and he didn’t think he could move.  
  
“Please,” he begged, barely able to speak. “I just want to wake up. Just let me wake up.”  
  
“Stiles.  _You’re awake_ ,” he heard Derek say. The words were trying to be reassuring, but they were desperate. Pleading. It was something Stiles had never heard from Derek before. And that, somehow, made him start to believe him.  
  
“Fingers. Show me your fingers,” he breathed to Derek. He felt as though he was about to faint.  
  
Derek eased Stiles against the wall and held them out for him. He counted them with slow, labored breaths.  
  
“1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9…. 10.”  
  
“Ten, Stiles,” Derek repeated. “There’s ten.”  
  
Stiles felt his back against the cold wall, and felt fresh tears come.  
  
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Stiles said over and over again.  
  
He saw Derek grab something off the floor. He brought it over to Stiles- his shirt -and helped pull it on him. Stiles was shocked. Somehow, Derek had seen how exposed- how violated -he felt.  
  
“You never have to apologize to me,” Derek said. “They’re getting worse. Do you want to talk about it?”  
  
He didn’t. But he had read a lot of places that said talking helped people going through PTSD, and since that was the closest thing this was to that, he knew he had to. But he couldn’t bring himself to tell Derek how horrible it was.  
  
“Well, we were having sex. Then um, you were dead. Then I woke up and hey, Gerard wanted some sex. Then I woke up a third time and guess what, you wanted sex. Worse wet dream ever.” Stiles tried to smile with the last sentence, but whatever face he made just made Derek look more worried.  
  
Stiles glanced away. He knew he couldn’t give half-truths. Derek was too keen for that. “I was terrified. I felt so violated, and each time when I woke up I thought I had finally escaped it. But it just got worse. Right before I woke up I dreamt…. I thought….”  
  
“You can tell me,” Derek said.  
  
“I dreamt you attacked me and forced yourself on me.” Stiles breathed the sentence out with one breath, as if it took all his remaining strength to say. He felt himself slide down onto the bed and shake. Derek was silent. Stiles look at his hand and saw the blood on it from hitting the wall. Finally, Derek spoke.  
  
“What should I do to help? Should I leave?”  
  
“No,” Stiles said, sure of that. He needed Derek here.  
  
“Do you want to get dressed?”  
  
Derek helped Stiles put the rest if his clothes on. Stiles buried his head in Derek’s bare chest and tried to stop the tears from coming.  
  
“You know I would never do anything you’re not comfortable with, Stiles,” Derek said. “One word, one look, that’s all I need.”  
  
Stiles knew. It was just so terrifying, opening himself up to someone like this.  
  
“I would never hurt you,” Derek said, rubbing Stiles back. Part of Stiles wanted more, but he knew it would be a long time before he’d feel comfortable enough to have sex with Derek again.  
  
“And…. and,” he continued, pausing. Stiles could tell how concerned Derek was, that he was terrified too. Of being so emotional with someone, after his track record. “I swear. I’ll protect you. I’ll protect you, and you’ll get through this.”  
  
One of Derek’s hands left Stiles and fiddled with something for a second. Stiles just concentrated on the smell of Derek’s chest that was lulling him back to sleep.  
  
But then, a soft sounded started. “You’re a, a one of a one, yeah a one of a kind. That you only find, once in a lifetime.”  
  
Through everything, Stiles smiled.  
  
“Double Rainbow,” Derek said softly. Even though it was horribly cheesy and romantic, it was secretly Stiles favorite Katy Perry song ever. And Derek had remembered that.  
  
The soft beat and Derek’s smell was becoming too much for Stiles.  
  
“What time is it?” Stiles asked hazily. “It must be near morning.”  
  
Derek paused. “It’s…. 2am.”  
  
Stiles felt his heart beat faster again, anxiety about to reappear. “No,” he said. He couldn’t take another round of those endless nightmares.

But then he felt Derek’s hand rubbing his back, heard a gentle “shhh” that seemed way too gentle for Derek.  
  
“You’re strong,” Derek said. “And no matter how many nightmares you have to face, just remember. I’m here waiting for you on the other side. I’ll be here for you. I promise.”  
  
It was 2:07am. And Stiles might have been about to get the first few hours of restful sleep he’d had in a long, long time.


End file.
